


At the End of All Things

by WinterSky101



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Old Age, Post Season/Series 08, Romance, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSky101/pseuds/WinterSky101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester was once a young man. He isn't any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the End of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> I chose "Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings" for a reason on this fic. One of them does apply. Fair warning.
> 
> This takes place about 50 years after an AU season 8 ending where they closed the Gates of Hell and everyone survived and the angels didn't fall.

_"I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things."_

_Frodo to Sam, 'The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King'_

Dean Winchester was once a young man.

He isn't any more. He is old now, so old, and he's not quite sure how he managed to live this long, considering he's a hunter. He's in his eighties - he doesn't like to think of the exact number - and that's crazy. It's mostly because he and Sam did manage to close the Gates of Hell all those years ago, when Kevin finished translating the tablet and Sam made it through all the trials. He survived it. They all survived. It was shocking, but it was true.

Sam's not alive now, though. He died a year and a half ago of a heart attack. It was in his sleep. Peaceful, the doctors said. Dean cried, of course, but it was the best death he could have wished for his little brother. Nothing bloody, nothing painful, no monsters. Just his heart finally giving out. Sam's wife - Sarah Blake, if you can believe it, from back when Sam and Dean stopped the ghost of the little girl in that painting - had died two days before. The doctors said it was a coincidence that their deaths had been so close, but Dean knows otherwise. He and Sam have been to Heaven before. They know what it's like, how wonderful it is. Dean knows that Sam let go to join his wife. And, since their best memories undoubtedly are of each other, they have to be together again. Maybe they can see John and Mary up there. Maybe they've met up with Bobby. Dean hopes that they're young again. He thinks Sam would like that.

And, since Sam is gone, Dean is left alone.

But no, that's not quite true. He's not alone. He's reminded of that as there's a noise behind him that's become as familiar as the sound of his own heartbeat. The fluttering of feathers.

Because Castiel has never left him. In the fifty-plus years that they've known each other, Castiel has always stayed with him. He hasn't aged, the lucky bastard, so people mistake him for Dean's son sometimes. Castiel doesn't care. Dean does, but he pretends he doesn't because he knows it doesn't matter.

But Castiel's been away for the past three days. Dean has no idea why, but the normally ever-present angel hasn't responded to any of his calls. Now, as Dean turns around to face him, he sees that Castiel looks terrible. He looks like he's been crying. Dean knows angels can cry - he saw Castiel do it at Sam's funeral - but he has no idea why Castiel would be crying now.

"Cas?" Dean asks.

Castiel swallows hard. "Hello, Dean," he replies. While Dean's voice has changed so much from how it sounded when he was young, Castiel still sounds exactly the same. Though now, he sounds like he's choking on tears, fighting to keep them back. Again, Dean wonders why.

"Is something wrong?" Dean asks.

Castiel shakes his head. "It is not of import," he replies, and though Dean can tell that that's a blatant lie, he lets it be. Castiel wipes at his eyes. "Why don't we go out together? What do you think?"

"Sure," Dean replies. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere," Castiel replies, his voice choked again. Tears well up in his eyes for a moment, but he blinks them away. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," Dean replies. "Let's go get something to eat. I want a burger."

"Alright," Castiel replies. He reaches out and takes Dean's hand. Together, they fly off. The Impala is long gone, of course. Dean can't drive any more, no matter how much he would like to. He gave it to Kevin years ago. It was hard to do, but Dean knew that he couldn't take care of the car and she would just end up sitting in a garage somewhere until he died. Kevin's getting on in his years too, though he's still a good fifteen years younger than Dean. He's planning on giving the Impala to his youngest son as a wedding present. Dean heartily approves. The kid is great. But Kevin's still driving it around now. He comes and takes Dean out for rides in the Impala sometimes. Dean wonders how Kevin's doing. The last time they talked was around a month ago. Kevin's kid is getting married in three weeks, so Kevin is going to come and pick Dean up for one last ride in the Impala soon. They've planned a date, but Dean's forgotten it. He wrote it on his calendar, though, and he knows that Castiel knows and Castiel never forgets anything. Especially not something Dean tells him.

Dean and Castiel land in front of a burger shack that Dean hasn't seen for a good sixty, maybe even closer to seventy years. It's a little place his dad took him to that had the best burgers he had ever tasted. He assumed it had closed years ago.

"This place is still open?" he asks Castiel in surprise.

Castiel doesn't make eye contact with Dean. Instead, he looks out at the water that's next to the dock where the restaurant sits. "I took us back in time as well," he replies. His voice still isn't as steady as normal. "We've gone back fifty years. The restaurant will close in two months."

Dean grins. "Thanks, Cas," he replies. He swears that the noise that Castiel makes in return is a half-stifled sob. "Cas, please tell me what's wrong," he begs.

Castiel shakes his head. "Don't you want a burger?" he asks, going towards the door to the little restaurant. Dean follows him, frowning. Something is wrong, that much he knows. And Castiel doesn't want to tell him. Dean assumes it's Heaven-related business. Maybe another angel, a friend of Castiel's, is dead. But even if it has nothing to do with Dean, he still wants to know what the problem is. He doesn't like it when there are secrets between himself and Castiel. It reminds him of when Castiel worked with Crowley - who, incidentally, is now trapped in Hell and may still be the king, but Dean doesn't know or care if that's still the case - and that's a memory that's only painful. It's been fifty years, but it's still one of Dean's most horrible memories.

Castiel and Dean enter the shop. A young waitress comes over to them and seats them. Castiel quietly requests a seat where they can see the water, and the waitress obliges. Castiel stares pointedly out the window, refusing to meet Dean's eyes. It's crazy, but he still looks almost exactly the same as when Dean first met him. He's still got the suit and trench coat, and the backwards tie, because Castiel's never quite figured out how to properly put it on. Dean lets him wear it backwards. It's cute. Endearing. It certainly makes people's guards go down when they see it. They seem to find it as charming as Dean does. Castiel has asked Dean more than once to teach him how to tie his tie properly, but Dean never does it. Castiel has long since resigned himself to having the tie on backwards and doesn't seem to mind anymore.

"Cas, please tell me what's wrong," Dean pleads.

Castiel's eyes well up with tears, but he blinks them away. "It's nothing, Dean," he replies, his voice shaking.

"No, it's not, because you're crying and you  _never_  cry," Dean counters.

Castiel takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Forget about it, Dean. Please. Let's have a nice meal together."

The waitress comes over to take their orders and Dean orders a burger. Castiel declines politely when she asks if he wants anything. Dean frowns at that. Castiel doesn't need to eat, but he still does, especially when he and Dean go out to eat together. It's unnerving to see him sitting stiffly in front of Dean, as if he's still that same, devoted angel of the Lord that rescued Dean from Hell and threatened to throw him back in. Dean doesn't like it. While there's always been a slightly otherworldly quality about everything Castiel does, he has gotten more human in the past years. This soldier-of-God shtick that Castiel's pulling out now… Well, Dean hasn't seen him like this in decades.

The burger comes and Dean accepts it with a grin. The waitress smiles back, an indulgent sort of smile. Dean doesn't mind. He knows he's not as attractive as he was fifty years ago and women don't find him as appealing as they once did. Of course, there's his crazy neighbor, a seventy-something-year-old woman who takes every opportunity to flirt with him, but she doesn't count. Women are no longer ensnared by his charms. Dean doesn't care. He knows he's too old for all of them, anyway. He's sure he'll die soon, even with Castiel periodically healing him (he doesn't realize that Dean knows).

Castiel stares out at the water while Dean starts on his burger. "This is great," Dean says, hoping to start a conversation. "You should have gotten one too." Castiel's fist clenches slightly, but other than that, he makes no move to show that he even heard Dean. "Cas, what's up?"

"It is not of import," Castiel replies, his voice not quite steady, and Dean wants to punch the damn angel.

"Bullshit," he snaps. "There's something up. I know it."

"You do not need to worry about it," Castiel replies, his voice a bit steadier. He's obviously making a conscious effort to pull himself together, but it's hard. Dean reaches across the table and takes Castiel's hand.

"Please, Cas. Just tell me what's wrong. I want to help." That seems to be almost enough to break Castiel, as tears well up in his eyes and he makes a pained little sobbing sound. "Just tell me what's wrong," Dean urges, hating the pain he can see etched on Castiel's face.

"I can't," Castiel whispers in return. "I…I'm so sorry, Dean."

"Why can't you?" Dean asks.

Castiel closes his eyes and bites down on his lower lip. "Please, Dean. I want this to be a normal day. Please."

It's the begging tone of Castiel's voice that makes Dean back down, because this is Castiel, angel of the Lord, and he doesn't beg. "Fine," Dean agrees, and Castiel looks almost surprised that Dean's doing as he asks. "Just…whatever it is, I hope it gets better." Dean pulls his hand back and takes another bite of his burger. He's giving Castiel a moment to regain control of his emotions, as Dean's last comment threatened to make him come undone. Dean really wishes Castiel would just tell him what's wrong, but if what Castiel wants is a normal day, Dean will give that to him. He can do that for his angel.

Dean finishes his burger before too long and pays. Castiel takes his hand and leads him out of the restaurant, refusing to look over at him. "Cas, please tell me what's wrong," Dean asks again. Castiel turns his face away. Dean reaches over and gently turns Castiel back to face him again. "Cas, please," he whispers.

"Dean… I can't." A tear slips down Castiel's face.

"Okay." Dean leans over and places a chaste kiss on his lips.

Because they're together, Dean and Castiel. They have been for almost fifty years. When the Gates of Hell were closed and Heaven and Hell clashed in a huge battle, there was a moment - a terrifying, horrifying moment - where Dean thought he had lost Castiel. It turned out he hadn't, and when he discovered that fact, Dean's body had gotten the best of him and he had kissed Castiel hard on the lips. It actually turned out to be a good thing, since Castiel apparently liked Dean too. That was the start of a long relationship, one that managed to endure even as Dean aged. Obviously, they were more private now, considering Dean looks old enough to be Castiel's father, but the relationship still exists. Dean still loves Castiel, and he will until the end of all time.

"I'm kinda tired," Dean tells Castiel. "Can you take me home?"

Castiel's eyes go wide with panic. "You're tired?" he asks, his voice choked.

Dean frowns, not understanding what the problem is. "Yeah? Something wrong with that?"

"Can we do something together first?" Castiel begs.

Dean shrugs. "Sure, why not?" he replies. "What do you want to do?"

"Anything," Castiel replies, sounding desperate.

Dean thinks for a moment. "Want to go to the park?"

Castiel nods and takes Dean's hand to fly him away. They land in a small park that's near Dean's house, a place where Dean and Castiel have spent many happy days together. The sun's out, but not enough to make it too hot. Castiel holds Dean's hand tightly as they start to walk, going over to sit under a tree. Dean rests his head on Castiel's shoulder and smiles.

"It's lovely," Dean whispers. Castiel nods, but the motion is a bit jerky. Dean can feel him trembling. "I love it here."

"So do I," Castiel replies, his voice choked. "And I love you."

"Love you too, Cas," Dean replies easily. After fifty years, it's gotten much easier to admit things like that. But even fifty years doesn't stop the little thrill that goes through Dean's body every time Castiel tells Dean he loves him. In those moments, it's like Dean's a young man again, although a look in the mirror tells him otherwise.

Dean yawns, once again reminded of his age. Back when he and Castiel first met, he could get along with only a few hours of sleep a night. Now, Dean tires easily and sleeps often. "I'm really tired, Cas."

"A few more minutes, please," Castiel begs. He sounds as if he's fighting to force the words past a lump in his throat.

Dean nods, unable to refuse Castiel anything. "A few more minutes," he repeats. A thought occurs to him. "When is Kevin coming to take me for a ride in the Impala?"

"Next Saturday," Castiel replies automatically. Then he hisses in a sharp breath and makes a little whimpering sound. Dean refrains from asking what's wrong. He knows there won't be an answer.

"And his kid's getting married three weeks from tomorrow, right?" Dean asks. Castiel nods. "I hope he's happy," Dean adds.

"I do too," Castiel replies. There's silence for a moment. Dean closes his eyes and almost dozes off, but he's jerked back away by Castiel moving under him.

"You're very tired, aren't you?" Castiel asks, his voice sounding resigned.

Dean nods. "We can hang out more after I get up," he offers. Castiel doesn't reply to that. He merely takes Dean's hand and flies him back to his house. Dean lies down on his bed and closes his eyes. The last thing he's aware of is Castiel's hand stroking his hair and a tear splashing on his cheek.

* * *

Something is definitely strange.

Dean knows he's no longer young, but he's standing in the middle of the Men of Letters bunker, looking and feeling like he's in his thirties again. His first thought is a dream, but there's something about this that makes him suspect otherwise.

"Cas?" Dean calls. The angel appears in front of him instantly, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. It's fairly clear to Dean what's happened.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

Castiel breaks down, his tears turning into full-fledged sobs. Dean quickly leads him over the couch and sits down next to him, stroking his hair until the tears stop. Dean can't help but marvel at the lack of stiffness in his fingers, the sharpness of his eyesight, the clarity of his hearing.

"I'm so sorry," Castiel sobs. "I was healing you, I was trying, but I couldn't… Azrael, the angel of death, she told me that you were going to die today. In your sleep. That's why I didn't want you to go to sleep. I knew that if you did, you wouldn't wake up."

"Is that where you were for the past three days?" Dean asks.

Castiel nods, wiping at his tearstained face. "When Azrael told me, I searched Heaven madly, trying to find an angel that would help me keep you alive. But they all said it was your time. I'm so sorry, Dean."

"Hey, Cas, look at me." Dean puts two fingers under Castiel's chin and tilts his head upwards until their eyes meet. "Those angels were right. It  _was_  my time. I was old, really old. Older than any hunter had any right to be. And honestly, that was the best death I think I could have had. It wasn't painful, I had a great day, you were by my side…"

"But I couldn't prevent it!" Castiel protests. "I should have kept it from happening, but I couldn't."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to anyway," Dean replies softly. "Anyway, I'm in Heaven now, right? My family's all up here too. And you'll stay with me, right?"

"Until the end of time itself," Castiel promises instantly.

Dean smiles. "Then this isn't a bad thing," he replies. "I love you, Cas."

"I love you too, Dean," Castiel replies. And they kiss, a kiss that's more passionate than anything they've had in years.

When they break apart, Castiel has a hint of a smile on his face. "Do you want to go see Sam?" he asks.

Dean smiles. "I'd love to," he replies.

Castiel takes Dean's hand and gives it a small squeeze before leading Dean over to the door. And together, hand in hand, the man and the angel go out to explore Heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr is [here](http://winterskywrites.tumblr.com/), if you're interested.


End file.
